


Not Quite Brave

by crowdedcafe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Growing Up, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedcafe/pseuds/crowdedcafe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwa-chan may have been a brute sometimes (“Get the beetle away from me!"), and sometimes Trashykawa was too annoying to bear (“I’m not watching that alien movie for the fifth time!”), but the two were still best friends.</p><p>And of course, Hajime’s presence made Tooru’s daily anxieties fade just a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Brave

At seven years old, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t scared of anything. Not even the dark, no matter how much his sister teased him for his alien shaped nightlight. He used it because it looked cool, that’s all!. Little Tooru thought he was the bravest kid on the street, at least until that fateful morning when a moving van pulled in across the street and his mother sent him outside to meet the neighbors and he was scared and he’s hardly breathing hajime call the ambulance--

The doctors called it a panic attack, and it would be the first of many in Oikawa’s life.

-

Tooru slowly pulled himself out of a dazed state, the drugs flowing through his system filling his limbs with lead and stuffing his pretty head with cotton. Sunlight drifted through the slats in plastic blinds, bathing the hospital room in stripes of light. He vaguely registered his mother asleep on the chair by his bed before an unfamiliar hand ran through his hair.

“Tooru, honey, how are you feeling?” The hand was accompanied by a soft, concerned voice. A woman, he learned. Probably a mother.

Despite her calming tone, he felt a thick lump building in his throat, the icy tendrils of fear creeping up his spine. who are you why are you touching what am i supposed to say i cant-

“It’s okay, Tooru,” woman smoothed his hair back again, “I’m your mother’s friend, Iwaizumi-san. She asked me to watch over you while she took a nap.”

“You’re my new neighbor?” Tooru asked with a sleepy yawn, squinting in the woman’s general direction.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi replied with a small grin, checking the dainty golden watch on her wrist, “My son Hajime should be back any minute now with a surprise for you, since you were so brave, so you can meet him too.”

Oikawa perked up somewhat at that, lifting his head and not quite meeting her eyes. “A present?”

A smaller, rugged looking boy barged into the hospital room before the words finished leaving Oikawa’s mouth, a small plastic bag swinging from the crook of his elbow. His arms were littered with brightly colored bandages, each with a different beetle pattern. He tromped across the room, stopping at his mother’s side and fixing Tooru with a dark glare, tiny arms crossed across his chest.

“Are you done being stupid?”

Tooru balked, taken aback at the boy’s rudeness, and pouted, “So mean, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime’s glare deepened as a scowl worked its way onto his face. He tossed the bag at Oikawa before promptly turning on his heel and leaving the room. Tooru watched the boy go before turning to look at Iwaizumi-san with a deadpan expression.

“Iwa-chan is so rude!”

Across the room, Oikawa’s mother smiled softly to herself. Never before had she seen Tooru feel comfortable around someone else so quickly, and she knew this tough looking child would become a very important person to her son.

-

Tooru had not even been home for an hour before he was feeling antsy. As much as he loved his collection of alien plushies (all fifteen of them), he desperately wanted to run back across the street and talk to Iwa-chan. Some dreams are not meant to be, however, and Tooru’s mother told him to stay in his room until dinner time. 

But he was seven! That’s practically a grownup!

Tooru looked around his cluttered room for a moment before tip-toeing over to the door, kneeling, and pressing his ear against the crack at the bottom. Hearing no movement from his mother or sister spurred the boy on, and he carefully made his way to the window.

In no time at all, Tooru was at Iwa-chan’s front door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. He knocked three times in quick succession and rang the doorbell for good measure. He tried to stretch up to see through the peephole, but it was up too high for him to reach, even on his tip toes.

The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled looking Hajime. 

“Why are you at my house,” he asked, though his unamused tone made it sound more like a statement.

“Well you see,” Oikawa began bashfully, casting his eyes downward, “I was bored and thought Iwa-chan would want to play?”

Hajime didn’t say anything for a long while.

oh no did i say something wrong what if he hates me i only want-

“Do you play volleyball?” Iwaizumi asked, cutting off Oikawa’s internal panic, “I’m a really good spiker! You can set for me!”

Now, Tooru did not know a single thing about volleyballs or spikers or setters, but he was willing to do whatever it took to get closer to Iwa-chan.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi grew inseparable over the summer, often leaving their houses early in the morning, before the sun had a chance to raise much higher than the treeline, to play and not returning until dusk.

Hajime taught Tooru how to set a volleyball until their little arms ached with overuse. In return, Tooru sent the ball to Hajime’s hand time and time again, and Iwaizumi’s palms stung from the force of his spikes. Their mothers watched happily as the boys grew closer, even going as far as discussing dreams watching their sons in professional volleyball matches and how close their grandchildren would be.

Grade school passed in much the same way. The boys would bicker on their walk to school, elbow each other playfully on the walk home, and camp out in one of their bedrooms to study. They’d share ice cream on hot days, snuggle under a blanket on cold ones, and walk under the same umbrella when rain decided to fall.

Iwa-chan may have been a brute sometimes (“Get the beetle away from me!), and sometimes Trashykawa was too annoying to bear (“I’m not watching that alien movie for the fifth time!”), but the two were still best friends.

And of course, Hajime’s presence made Tooru’s daily anxieties fade just a bit.

-

The first two years of middle school had gone by in a flash, and it had been months since Oikawa’s last panic attack. Whether it was Iwa-chan’s constant, reassuring presence or his new medications, Tooru wasn’t sure.

As soon as he saw the first years practicing for the very first time, though, he knew that the panic and anxiety and dread would be back. Oikawa Tooru, despite being an extraordinarily skilled setter, was not a genius. However, it seemed that Kageyama Tobio was.

The boy didn’t have bad intentions, and Tooru knew that, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, damnit. All that hard work, all those hours of practicing with Iwaizumi and the team, for nothing. What was the point of doing all of those things if he could no longer be the best? If his kouhai was a filthy usurper and wanted him to fail and oh gods he would never get a job and would have to live on the street-

Iwaizumi saw the look of terror on Oikawa’s face. He saw the nearly undetectable tremor of his spine, the pallor in his cheeks, the twitching of his deft fingers that indicated the urge to scratch. And he swore to himself that Tooru should never have to feel that way, not when he was so important and lovely and he just tried so hard.

Oikawa turned his head slightly when Iwa-chan roughly clapped him on the shoulder and offered a sly grin, derailing his previous train of thought almost instantly.

“You know,” Hajime said with an odd gleam in his eye, “Why don’t we have a match? Us against the first years. Maybe show them a thing or two.”

“Good idea,” Oikawa replied, smiling weakly.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa worked in tandem, setting and spiking so fiercely that even the other third years couldn’t keep up. Hajime smiled while changing after practice, catching the grin on Tooru’s face and the spark that returned to his gaze. For now, at least, everything was fine.

-

Everything was not fine.

Oikawa was laying in his bed, illuminated by the faint light of the moon and the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to his ceiling. He shook violently, rocking back and forth, and took hard, gasping breaths. The sounds of his desperate breathing overtook the room, drowning out the soft pattering of tears spilling onto his pillows.

Of course there would be someone better than him. How could there not? He was worthless, would never amount to anything, wasn’t worthy of being loved by anyone. Not even his mother or his sister or Iwa-chan--

And oh how Hajime would be disappointed. They had spent so much time practicing together and he blew it. Tobio could set for him. No one needed Tooru anymore. He might as well throw himself away like the garbage he is.

Tooru’s shaking became more intense, his rocking turning into thrashing as his bedspread was thrown onto the floor in a heap. His nails, once perfectly manicured, became jagged knives as the clawed at his forearms, leaving shiny ribbons of flesh in their wake. The gashes he’d already scratched out of his calves stung with every movement, but the pain came nowhere close to what he deserved. 

Oikawa eventually cried himself to sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of self-hatred and the fears of being abandoned or not good enough.

One panic attack turned into two, turned to three, turned to a daily occurrence. Tooru could barely hold himself together throughout the school day, and didn’t even attempt to put on the cheery facade he usually wore. Not that it mattered, since Iwa-chan would see through it anyway.

He was thankful for Iwa-chan, he really way. Thankful for the way he’d gathered him into his arms the morning after his first attack. Thankful for the way he called at midnight and talked about nothing in particular, trying his damndest to dispel dark thoughts with only his gruff voice. Thankful for the way he left his window unlocked every night, waiting for Tooru to inevitably come to him for comfort.

Most of all though, Oikawa was thankful for the soft kisses Iwaizumi pressed into his hair when he thought the former had fallen asleep.

-

“We should really just tell them we’re dating,” Iwaizumi grumbled into Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Aww, is Iwa-chan jealous?” Oikawa cooed, looking down at the shorter teenager.

Hajime blushed and turned his head the other way. “No!”

“It’s okay, Iwa-chan! I only lead all those girls along for the chocolates, anyway!”

The two were sitting shoulder to shoulder in Oikawa’s living room, pillows thrown carelessly onto the floor in order to make room on the couch for the two boys. An old alien film played on the television, and kernels of popcorn littered their clothes (and Iwaizumi’s hair, though he didn’t know that yet).

The first months of highschool dragged on slowly. Unlike in the summer, Tooru and Hajime didn’t have time to laze around by the pond or spend hours sharing languid kisses on their front stoops. Instead, they were swamped with homework and volleyball practices.

Iwaizumi turned to his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, subtly asking for the truth but not necessarily demanding it. Tooru sighed and began picking at his cuticles nervously.

“It’s just that I don’t know what people will think of me,” Oikawa began hesitantly, “You’ve seen how they treated gay people in middle school.”

“I know, I know,” Hajime huffed, “But I don’t like seeing you put up a mask like that. You shouldn’t have to.”

“I’m scared, Iwa-chan! I don’t want anything to happen to me or to you! And if putting up a mask means that we’re safe, then that’s what I’ll do!”  
“Okay, okay, if that’s what makes you happy.”

Hajime knew it didn’t make Tooru happy, but he never wanted to see the other anxious if he could do something to prevent it.

For a while, they pretended to watch the movie, quietly munching on popcorn and doing their best not to jostle the other. Cicadas screamed outside, their droning being intermittently interrupted by the cawing of a crow. Oikawa gently grabbed Iwaizumi’s hand and laced their fingers together.

“Hey, Hajime,” Oikawa said quietly into Iwaizumi’s ear, “You know I love you, right?”

“I know, Tooru. I love you too.”

-

Despite the cheering crowds and the cameras pointed at them, nothing could stop Oikawa Tooru from searching for Iwaizumi in the chaos. Not his anxieties, not other’s prejudices, not his own racing heart. He saw a flash of red, the white of his partner’s number, the curve of his arms, and the familiar flash of gold on his left hand.

Grabbing ahold of his shirttail, Oikawa spun Iwa-chan around and planted his hands firmly on his shoulders, his matching band glinting in the harsh stadium lights.

“We won gold, Hajime!” Tooru yelled with a doofy smile, “We won gold!”

Really, who could blame him for kissing his husband in public at a time like this? Hajime certainly didn’t mind, if the way he reciprocated and clutched onto the fabric covering Oikawa’s chest was any indication.

And instead of his heart beating hard because of panic, each beat was filled with love and exhilaration.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i wasn't planning on writing, but then i fell in love with this pairing and things spiraled out of control. everything oikawa experiences during his panic attacks are things i personally experience as well, but keep in mind that everyone's panic attacks are different.


End file.
